That's Sheriff to You
by BeMoreBroadway
Summary: Carl Denham is the most wanted criminal in the West. Sheriff Leviticus Englehorn is the most determined sheriff in the West, with only one goal: hunt Denham down and give him what he deserves. Only problem? The outlaw's a stunner, and what started off as a simple goal of apprehension quickly morphs into something much more...romantic.


Carl Denham was never the most...subtle outlaw. If the orange vest and green tie were any indicators, that is. He was smart as a whip, charismatic, and able to sway almost anyone to his side, but you could yank him out of a crowd by his tie - _which he'd appreciate, thank you very much!~_ \- and plunk his ass in a cell.

So, as he sat in the Spitfire Saloon, he let his mind - and gaze - wander. The dusty little building was practically empty, save for himself, a man behind the bar, a woman in white sweeping the stage, and a few other undercover outlaws scattered about. He counted at least three.

The only sounds that he could hear were the soft sound of broom bristles on wood, the squeak of a rag cleaning glass, and his own rapid heartbeat. He didn't know why he was so anxious. Maybe it was because he could get caught at any point? Maybe it was because he was practically alone? He didn't know. All he knew was that he didn't like feeling this anxious.

"Howdy, everyone."

He was startled out of his thoughts by the woman onstage speaking. She was still holding the broom, but she was standing in front of a makeshift microphone.

"Since it's so quiet, I thought I'd give y'all a little backing music. A song called 'My Life So Far.'" She cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and let out an ear-piercing scream into the mic. The effect was instantaneous. The man behind the bar nearly dropped his glass, the other outlaws jumped almost clean out of their skins, and Carl? Carl fell off his chair and landed flat on his back.

"...well fuck me gently with a needle in a haystack, that hurt like a horsefly's bite!" He groan-laughed, sitting up a bit. The woman onstage let out a short laugh at hearing the comment, giving him a smile before returning to her sweeping. Carl climbed back onto his chair and stretched a bit, letting out a groan as his spine cracked. That fall might have fucked him up, he hated to admit.

The double doors to the saloon swung open, and everyone fell...well, considering everyone was pretty much silent before, everyone just stayed quiet. Carl glanced at the doors out of the corner of his eye, looking at the scene without actually looking and making himself obvious, and nearly choked on his spit.

Sheriff Leviticus Englehorn - _that fucking dreamboat_ \- had meandered on into the building. Things were about to get a little interesting. He couldn't help but smile a bit as the sheriff practically stalked over to his table and sat down across from him. He gave him a quick glance, just to get a good look at him, and nearly swooned. If there was ever someone who could make a man gay - or, in Carl's case, gay_er_ \- Englehorn was that someone.

"Well howdy, Sheriff," he said, giving the other man a smile that was all teeth. "What brings you here?" Englehorn glanced at him and blinked once, almost like he was stopping himself from zoning out.

"...nothin' specific," he muttered. "Just got tipped off that a certain wanted criminal was here."

That comment made Carl intrigued. Was said wanted criminal him? Or was it one of the other nameless ruffians that were scattered around them? He didn't even notice that he had leaned closer until he felt the sturdiness of the table underneath his elbows, his hands resting against his cheeks.

"Oh? What kind of wanted criminal?" He asked, playing innocent. The sheriff barked out a laugh.

"Only the most wanted criminal this side of the Mississippi. If the name Carl Denham rings a bell, then that's my target."

Carl couldn't help the butterflies in his stomach. He gave the sheriff a rather charming grin, leaning as close as he could.

"Well, I would hope the name rings a bell to me," he chuckled softly. "It's my name, after all!~" Englehorn's eyes went wide, but, before he could draw his weapon, Carl grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him halfway across the table, almost slamming their noses together.

"I won't hesitate to shoot you, you rat," Englehorn growled. Carl pouted slightly and gave the sheriff a quick kiss on the nose.

"Oh, Leviticus, you wound me!" he said, feigning hurt. "I thought you liked our little chases. Besides...you've caught me now. 'M yours to do with as you please~"

Englehorn swallowed hard, his cheeks slowly turning as red as an apple.

"Firstly, that's Sheriff Englehorn to you," he muttered. "Second, if you keep your filthy mouth shut all the way back to the office, I might reconsider shootin' you." Carl couldn't help but grin.

"Sounds like a plan. You gonna cuff me, then?" He teased. The sheriff let out a growl and grabbed the outlaw by his tie, hauled him to his feet, and quite literally dragged him out of the saloon.

Score one for Team Denham!~


End file.
